Angela Simmons is in the midst of a makeup meltdown. She’s seated at a vanity station in the makeshift greenroom of a lofty Hell’s Kitchen event space giving her own reflection the screw face. She tosses her newly blond blowout over her shoulder with the panache of a Pantene model and inches toward to the dimly lit mirror to examine herself more closely. Something about the flawless foundation job isn’t sitting well with her.
“It looks muddy,”she complains.
It’s minutes before her AngelaIAM “Electric Daze” NYFW presentation and anxieties are running higher than Kid Cudi at 4:20. The cramped room is cluttered with clothes, compacts, and a handful of handlers; Angela is still rocking the Timbs and sweats she wore to the venue and her face is naked except for the light layer of bronzer in question. Her makeup artist Angel, who regularly beautifies the 26-year-old sartorial star, patiently continues to work on her pretty palette. Fortunately, tonight Angela has more on her mind than cosmetics and catwalks—debates over lip lacquer will have to wait.